


Le Sacre du Printemps

by moonkid28



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Implied Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Somnophilia, bc he consented last night technically, i'm just tagging in case it's a trigger, idk - Freeform, like it seems like there's dubcon at first and then i tell you it's not, not like really?, persephone myth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkid28/pseuds/moonkid28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nurseydex Persephone AU that literally no one asked for, ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Primulaceae

**Author's Note:**

> So idk i just wanted to write something based off of that one thing that says persephone wasn’t really kidnapped, she just kind of wandered downstairs and started fucking with stuff and hades is like “what are you doing down here?” and persephone’s like “i like it down here i’m living down here now kk” and hades is like “k cool” bc tbh the thought of nursey coming into hell and tripping over shit and charming all these ghosts is hella in character
> 
> Anyways, a guide to who's who: anyways, a guide to who's who: Nursey is Persephone and Dex is Hades. Ransom is Hermes, Holster is briefly mentioned as Apollo and Jack is equally briefly mentioned as Hephaestus (I really debated making him Zeus. Truly. I have different headcanons for if the smh were Greek gods, the whole team plus side characters, where Nursey is Apollo and Dex is Hephaestus, but like. I wanted to write porn. sO)  
> Anyways. Lardo is Zeus, Shitty is mentioned once as Hera.
> 
> You don't need to know anybody except Nursey, Dex, Lardo, Ransom, and Bitty, really, and I have better headcanons for if I didn't want Nursey and Dex and Persephone and Hades, but like... just in case you wanted to know. Anyways! Have fun with this nonsense.

It is weeks before he hears of it.

The shades that plead and kiss at his feet have never meant much to him-- subjects to be ruled, delinquents to be kept in place, heroes to keep happy. He never listens to their whispers; the damned are exactly that, damned. He is harsh, but not unnecessarily so, and unerringly fair in his ways. Pretty words don’t sway him.

But the murmurs of a golden boy, dancing at the edges of his rivers, tripping over sacred fruits, pestering and then, somehow, charming even the worst of souls? That is different. That is no plea for mercy or promise of the pleasures of flesh from a spirit without a body.

That cannot be ignored.

The Lord of the Dead cuts a formidable figure as he leaves his palace. He hasn’t left the underworld in years, and his skin is as white as the bones of his dead. For millennia, dirt fell from the crevices in his palace until he learned to seal them and eventually, they blended with his skin into little marks, the ground claiming him as its own in the same way he had to the ground. His hair is like fire, as can be his temper, though he is of the most even minded Olympians. He stands tall in his godly form most days-- an eerie white glow comes from his skin, the marking of his divine status. Every one is different. When he drew for the world under Gaia’s crust, it paled, as though Helios had rejected him.

Good.

He finds the boy through sound, a carefree laugh that makes his head swim as though he had taken something too sweet. Hades had shrunk down to the size of a mortal, the better to weave through the fields for, search for this strange legend with subtlety, though each dead soul parted for their master unthinkingly and the action was almost useless. It is nothing, it is everything-- no dead man in Aphsodel laughs like that, or laughs at all, and he sounds like blessings, like music, like joy as sound.

“Oh--!”

Hades is behind the boy in an instant, white hand fisted in his tunic to yank him back and throw him to the wilted grass away from the pit. It wails, and he snarls at it, cracking his staff at the edge until it retreats, dark energy fading. He neither looks at nor acknowledges the boy, though he is the only one around him.

“Are you an idiot?” He asks roughly, voice hoarse with disuse.  
“No,” the boy says hotly. “I was dancing!”

“Only an idiot would dance at the edge of Tartarus.”

“How was I to know, I’ve never been down here!”

“And it should have stayed that way until you died, boy idiot, this place is nothing for the living.”

“You’re disrespectful. Relax a bit, maybe you would have some visitors.”

“How am I to relax if there are mortal intruders? I built this place, if there are errors and shoddy workmanship-- if people can get in, shades can escape! There is no room for relaxation, human!”

“I’m not human,” the boy grumbles. “I’m a god as well as you are.”

Hades frowns, opening his eyes from where they had been closed in irritation, and turns, opening his mouth to say something-- the words die in his mouth as his gold eyes settle on his intruder, still lain out in the grass.

He is gorgeous.

His skin is sun-bronzed, or sun-kissed, who knows, he had never been one for words; his eyes are a smoky, mesmerizing green, though somehow bright, as though Hecate had given him life through burning sage. His hair, curly, somehow windswept despite the still air, is the colour of healthy earth. Where he is lain out, the grass has somehow unwilted itself and is now fresh, and green, and curling around his flat palms near protectively where the nails are painted pure white like his clothes. When Hades’ eyes skate downwards, he swallows: the boy’s white tunic flirts with his strong thighs, flirts with his own eyes, flirts with the border between just long enough and dangerously indecent. The boy’s legs shift up as though he means to rise, and the edge of the tunic creeps, exposing more delicious looking copper skin. “Stay down,” he orders, voice somehow more hoarse, and he does, miraculously.

“Who are you?” He asks weakly, still in shock.

“Persephone,” the boy-- or rather, godling-- says proudly, and his own grey heart clenches at the name he now has a face to match, at the implication. “Of springtime. Of new beginnings. Of destruction--”

“Of Olympus,” Hades interrupts, a little darkly. “Of Demeter. You have no business here, unless you are to send a message. And even then, i’ve told my brothers and sisters to send Hermes. I like him.”

“So you don’t like me?” Persephone challenges. “Simply because I hail from Olympus? Prejudice knows no bounds, I see. Even below Mother Gaia’s sleeping skin.”  
“I’m not prejudiced,” Hades says irritably. “I like who I like, I don’t like who I don’t like. I have no reason to like anyone from golden Olympus. Hermes makes my list because he delivers my subjects to me without a fuss and without judgement. You come here, mock my fields, dance along the most dangerous of my realm--”

“An accident!” Persephone protests. Hades ignores him, continuing.

“And you disturb my shades so much that it reaches me. I know my realm isn’t the beauty of the world like Olympus, but you have no reason to come and make fun.”

“I didn’t come here for that,” Persephone says, frowning. “I like it here. It may be gloomy, but it’s beautiful. Romantic.” He shifts, sitting up and crossing his legs, grey-green eyes coming up to meet his own. Hades frowns back at him.

“What is romantic about the dead?”

Persephone smiles crookedly, like he’s smarter than him, like the shades that come here with something still to prove. It both irritates him and makes him want to run his fingers over his mouth. Probably to cover it, he thinks, trying to reason the desire away. Shut him up.

“Horror and emotion, passion at its finest, realism, urban sprawl and ancient custom. A fire burns here, somewhere. Jewels sing beneath the soil. The rivers rush as though they have something to prove. That, I think, is romantic. Enchanting.”

Okay, so he has to admit, that sounds fairly accurate. Maybe he was smarter than he gave him credit for. “That doesn’t sound like something Demeter would enjoy,” he says, instead of conceding to Persephone.

“He doesn’t. He wants me to learn to work the seeds of the earth, create bounty from what grows above, but I didn’t care for it. I don’t have the attention for it. I preferred spending time with Apollo and his enthusiasm for life. He was good to me, but even he made me tired sometimes.”

Hades feels something spark, hot and quick inside of him, and without thinking, he says, “So you’re Apollo’s, then. Makes sense.”

“What? No! We were only friends, nothing like-- no. Not in the slightest.”

“Are you sure?” Hades asks brusquely. Why he was pushing this, he didn't know-- he wasn't impulsive, he was measured, thoughtful, but any idea of that seemed to fly away when they met eyes. “You seem his type. Your skin doesn’t aid your argument.”

“What’s wrong with my skin?” Persephone spits, standing quickly, and he is suddenly as tall as Hades. He looks angry, something so at odds with his soft pinkish gold aura.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, that’s not what i’m saying-- gods, are you always like this? Assume the worst of people? You look as though Apollo kissed your skin a thousand times, like his desired, his intended. There aren’t many Olympians with your colouring, that’s all i’m saying,” Hades says sharply. Persephone looks appropriately quelled.

“Oh. No, I-- i’m virginal, as it were. We flirted, and were companionable, but nothing came of it. There isn’t room for intercourse when you spend all your time with your father at your side.”

That would make sense, Hades thinks to himself. Were he mine, I’m not sure I could let him out of my sight.

“You have to go home some time,” Hades says awkwardly. His face has tinted, trying not to think too hard about his last thoughts. “But, I, ah-- I won’t force you. If Demeter comes looking, however, you’re on your own.”

“So I can stay?” 

“You can stay.”

Persephone throws himself at Hades, arms tightening around him, and he nearly stumbles into the pit he had scolded the godling about in the first place.

“Thank you,” he murmured, into the crook of pale neck, and Hades, for the first time in his life, shivers, and his arms come up loose and low at the springtime god’s waist. “I promise not to make too much trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this for like four hundred years. It was supposed to be a short fic. It's like twenty pages now.
> 
> Anyways follow me on tumblr at my check please sideblog and come scream about these nerds with me @ hoenursey.tumblr.com


	2. Bellis Perennis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know those first few days, how you're still getting used to having a roommate? Seeing what they want, knowing how they work, acclimating to their weird habits?
> 
> Hades gets used to having a roommate.
> 
> Featuring a brief appearance of Wellie the Dancing Well, may she spin forever on in the hearts of Samwell alum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tense change.

The next days that passed were the oddest of his most recent life.

 

Shades lessened their pestering. When he dared peer out his dust laden windows, he saw touches of bright green, trails of life where nothing had been before. There began to be whispers of a beauty in the Fields of Asphodel, like no other-- a beauty that brought beauty. It grew to the point where there was almost chaos in hades, or as close to chaos as the underworld ever grew. Spirits who knew no purpose or memory clambered to catch glances of the boy. Heroes who just before had thought of only themselves and their golden heaven now peered down, creeping just on the outside of the gates. Even the damned souls stopped their wailing for a few hours each day, and intrinsically, he knew that it was all because of Persephone’s presence. And of course, to top it all off, every day, Persephone dropped by his grim palace for the oddest and most mundane of desires.

 

“A blanket, if you can spare one,” he asked politely of an attendant the first day, dipping low at his feet in a neat bow of respect. His mannerisms were impeccably polite and measured, carefully easy, subtle without being sly-- had Hades not looked up from the architecture of the soul housing, he might not have seen him. Persephone departed as quickly as he'd arrived when a servant brought the blanket, wrapped neatly in another cloth to keep it clean; he left the scent of fresh hyacinths in his wake and a gentle, warm breeze. Hades watched him from the corner of his eye-- he waved to him as he departed, a tiny smile curving his dark pink lips.

 

“A knife, if I'm allowed one?” he asked a guard outside the gate only a few days later, and when he came to Hades to ask, he saw no reason not to give it to him-- he waved him off with a curt nod, not allowing himself to wonder why he'd need it. If he was trying to kill him, it would take more than a knife, and there wasn't much else to kill in this realm. Persephone seemed to make a point of putting himself into Hades’ field of vision, and dipped his head softly. 

 

It could have only been two days later the next time he saw him.

 

He'd only been venturing out to check the gates, reinforce security-- Hades held court maybe once a week, and the other days, he appointed noble souls, knowledgeable ones, to the task, as he preferred to roam his land.

 

A sharp yelp sounded to his left. He jerked back from the fence, eyes hard-- if another soul tried to escape the punishment would be harsh, and they would be made a scapegoat of-- but the sound seemed to have come from just at the gate’s entrance. He frowned curiously, rising from his place on the ground and stalked towards the sound.

 

It didn't take long to find it. At the front of the gates, Persephone appeared to be pinned down by Cerebus, and he was laughing, wriggling beneath her as she licked at his face, tail wagging uncontrollably.

 

A sharp noise slipped out of his mouth against his will, and Cerberus looked up, surprised, then let Persephone escape from her grasp, and immediately began to spin in circles to express her joy.

 

“Stop, girlie,” he murmured. Hades crouched down, reaching his hand out to her. Immediately she barreled towards him, stopping just in front of him and spinning a few more times for good measure, then shoved her noses into his stomach enthusiastically until he ran his fingers over her silky fur. An overwhelmingly fond feeling spread through him.

 

Persephone was watching him from where he was still on the ground, interest over his face. “She's sweet,” he noted. “Smart, too. Saved me from falling into another river.”

 

“Another?” Hades said, brow furrowing.

 

“Mm, yes. I nearly tripped into one around the southernmost point of your realm the other day, but I was snagged by a tree root. She saved me this time from the river the souls go through. I'm… her spinning, it's endearing.”

 

“I'm not certain why she does it,” he admitted, working a tangle out of her fur. “She sprained her tail a while ago.”

 

“It's… amusing,” he murmured, standing. “I'm not certain why the shades fear her. She may not be the most welcoming presence, but she is sweet. She may have my heart yet.”

 

“Well,” Hades said dryly, “I'm certain she appreciates your love. By the fates, I don't give enough.”

 

Persephone cocked his head, eyes skirting over him and Cerberus-- how she'd settled in his arms, making soft little noises, how he curled around her gently, likely catching the softness of his gaze on her.

 

“She knows,” he said finally. “Animal and Master are alike. Your surface hides much, like the ground above you. I'm certain your connection is reciprocated, and she can love enough for you both.”

 

“That… sounds lovely. I think she is the only kind thing here,” Hades murmured. Persephone laughed softly, easing closer, and settled on his knees in front of him.

 

His long fingers settled in Cerberus’ fur and slowly began to stroke it-- he swore her fur grew shinier and sleeker as he worked at it. “You were kind to me,” he reminded him. “You let me stay here, gave me what I needed as I asked.”

 

“That wasn't a kindness,” he protested.

 

“Then what was it?”

 

“I--” he faltered, stopping his soft motions through Cerebus’ fur. One of her heads whined, and he started again thoughtlessly, then glanced up at Persephone with his brow furrowed. 

 

“You needed it. Who am I to deny--”

_ You? Who denies a beauty like yours its right to thrive in a place where no beauty exists? _

 

“A guest?” he finished weakly.

 

Persephone smiled at him, but the soft curve of lips was as weak as his answer. “Is that all I am? A guest?”

 

Somehow, he felt that he'd slighted him. He ached to rectify it.

 

“My first guest,” he amended hastily. “My only guest.”

 

That drew something brighter out of him, his fingers again stroking Cerebus, one of her heads resting in the bend his elbow made, and their fingers brushed-- it felt electric, and all at once he realized how close they were. Only the hellhound cradled in their arms separated them.

 

“I'm glad to be your first,” he said, quiet, a clear and quiet amusement evident in his tone. He began slowly braiding daisies into her fur, and then glanced up through his lashes.

 

“May I?” Persephone asked. He gestured to the daisies that had risen up in a circle around him. Hades’ brow furrowed, but Persephone smiled and leaned in, curled his fingers into the hair behind his ear, and he could feel the flowers bloom against his temple, curve around the back of his head and come back around to crown him.

 

“Animal and Master are alike,” he said, smiling, satisfied. He drew his fingers away softly-- they slid briefly across his skin and he felt hot, on fire, like sunlight.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, he went into the palace with flowers tucked into his hair and petals pressed to his skin. His servants stared, eyes wide as he strode in.

 

“Not a word,” Hades warned.

 

* * *

  
  


The fourth day, Persephone appeared at the palace.

 

Hades was in the middle of a plan for repairing an area of the entrance to the underworld when a guard cleared their throat.

 

“My lord,” he said. “The, ah. The boy, the flower child. He's at the door.” He looked wildly uncomfortable-- after all, come to think of it, Hades couldn't remember the last time the soul had talked to him as much as he had in the past week. His brow creased, wondering what was so special about this instance, and gestured for another servant to take away the scrolls and plans, sitting up a little straighter. “He's asking for you, this time.”

 

“Send him in,” he said, a curious frown stuck on his face.

 

Again, he was struck by how gorgeous the boy was, gently glowing in the gloom of his antechamber, flowers clutched in his strong arms, eyes sparkling ever so softly. He looked messy, now, however-- his legs slightly scraped up, tunic dirtied, a smudge of soil on his cheek. Compelled, Hades beckoned him step closer, reaching out to pluck the bright orange leaf from the young man’s hair.

 

“My lord,” he said after the leaf was removed, a half smile over his lips.

 

“Flower boy,” he said back, the leaf still in between two pale fingers. “I see you've been… busy.”

 

Persephone grinned, ducking his head down into the flowers to hide his smile a bit. He felt oddly pleased at making him smile like that, and on impulse, he reached over and tilted his chin up. “What do you need, that you come to the palace?”

 

The godling looked amused, nuzzling into his hand a bit, and he had to resist the urge to flinch in shock.

 

“A shower,” he admitted finally. “I'm unsure of your rivers-- I would bathe there, but the spirits of your realm warned me away. Couldn't say why, oddly, but I thought I ought listen to them.”

 

Hades coughed, suddenly overtaken with the idea of finding him bare, tawny skin exposed and dripping and--

 

“For once, you made a good decision,” he said, coughing slightly once more, pink in the face. “You might have died, or forgotten your existence, had you gone into a wrong one. Not as bad as falling into  _ Tartarus,  _ I might add--”

 

“Hey, now, I made an error, not a purposeful act of willfulness, alright?”

 

“You came down here, did you not?”

 

He smiled brilliantly, teeth glinting. “I maintain that that was not a bad decision.”

 

“That's what a man who makes bad decisions sounds like.” But he was cracking a rare smile, his cheeks aching slightly from disuse, and they were smiling at each other, and Persephone stepped so close that his flower stems brushed the tops of Hades’ knees, his dark clothing, smile somehow both pure and unintentionally seductive. “These are for you,” he added. “I thought you might need some colour in your home. It looked… somber, when I glanced over.”

 

In one motion, Hades had an arm around the bundle of flowers and eased them from the other's grip, taking his hand as well.

 

“I'll put these in a vase,” he murmured. “Come. We ought find you a place to bathe, and address those wounds.”

 

“Right,” he said, sounding dazed, and allowed himself to be guided away, deeper into his dark palace, and there was something to be said about Hades, but only that he was far too close to the spiders in his realm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a lot happened in that chapter. I think Cerberus is rooting for these two.
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long! I've been really busy with work and school, and my birthday was this past Sunday; I had a little dinner get together the night before and prep took forever and cleanup took even longer.
> 
> Quick reminder that I don't have a beta reader, so any and all mistakes are my own, but also it takes a little longer to get chapters out. I'll shoot for Saturday of this week for the next chapter, but I wouldn't exactly count on my scheduling. I still haven't even started on the newsletter I'm supposed to have in for work and my boss is not a happy camper. Follow my check please sideblog @ hoenursey on tumblr (I don't know how to embed links on ao3, sorry y'all).
> 
> Up Next: earning that explicit rating that i'm at least 90% sure is probably half the reason any of you are reading this. I know it'd be mine.


	3. Amaranthus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all remember that this is an explicit fic? Well

“I'm not much suited to guests,” Hades admitted. Persephone's hand had not left his own. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried-- he'd tugged just a little, politely, and in response the other had laced their fingers together, so that had been that.

 

“Why not? It's big, you have plenty of room, and it's beautiful here-- whoever designed it clearly knew what they were doing, though things look a little unfinished, could be polished up, and it could stand to have more light--”

 

“Do you honestly think gods come to vacation among the dead?” Hades interrupted, incredulous. “Don't be-- that's ridiculous. It isn't exactly Mount Olympus down here. And the ground is just that, dirt and dust.”

 

“There's more value than you think down here,” Persephone argued. “Your soul is rich in more ways than one. And didn't you say Hermes comes here? Do you not believe he would take a moment to rest, if you'd accommodate him?”

 

“I don't like people anyways, why would I encourage them to come?”

 

“You say that, but you act like a lonely old man and you don't kick me out, and you rule a land of men who insist on contact. You must contact your security, no?”

 

“....yes.”

 

“Exactly. You know I'm right.”

 

“If that's what you want to call it.”

 

“Old man.”

 

“I'm not that old!”

 

“You act like you are. Old and stuck in your ways,” Persephone said, words with that telltale lilt that gave away that he was teasing.

 

“And you are as young and naïve as the springtime you rule,” Hades shot back. “Fresh upstart, fleeting, opinions that change as often as the east wind himself.”

 

“We need the wind to appreciate the stillness, in the same way death is needed to appreciate life.”

 

Hades snorted. “Pretty words, but do you act on them?” he asked, tone sharp as anything, and instantly, Persephone looked affronted. “Of course I do! I'm not only a creature of words, I use reason and the like, I just prefer words, and beauty-- you are sour and sharp, like lemons.”

 

He struggled to come with something to say back, but knew, anything he said would be only proof of what he'd said. “Am not,” he finally said, childishly, and when the other man laughed at him, it didn't hurt, and his laugh sounded like the first rain of April, pattering and soft and warm.

 

“Show me to the bath, Lemon Lord, and I promise in there, I won't make you struggle for words.”

 

_ I doubt that,  _ Hades thought to himself, but he shook the idea off, avoiding that train of thought with fervor.

 

“Here,” Hades murmured. “Take your time. Everything you need should be within that bathing chamber.”

 

“Thank you-- I'll be out of your way in a blink.”

 

Persephone moved to enter the bathroom, and Hades called out, “I'll wait for you,” and the answering smile pierced so brightly through him, he could feel no embarrassing feelings at the way his heart leapt for the man.

 

\--

 

“Lord Hades?”

 

“Mm?” he said, distracted by the scroll he'd picked up as he waited for Persephone to finish bathing.

 

“I couldn't find your towels.”

 

“What do you mean you couldn't…” he began, dragging his eyes from the scroll, distracted--

 

Oh, Zeus.

 

The damned boy was naked.

 

Naked almost wasn't enough of a word to describe it, he thought a little belatedly. Bared. Exposed. Anything else, honestly

 

Persephone was still dripping wet, water sliding over the planes of his abdomen, down over sharp hipbones and framing the slim taper of his waist. His skin seemed to shimmer, and, caught on the glisten, Hades thought he might have used the pot of hot oil he kept beside the bath--

 

“You're staring.”

 

He snapped out of his head, meeting Persephone’s eyes guiltily, and was met with grey-green eyes that had darkened, a quick swallow, and that gave him an odd sort of strength. In an uncharacteristically bold move, he said, “I can't help myself,” and let his eyes roam over his strong figure, eyes catching on his length, how it half twitched with arousal for a moment, and then his gaze skated upwards just as Persephone's tongue dragged over his lips.

 

“You want me,” he said hoarsely. It wasn't a question.

 

Hades nodded slowly.

 

“And you, me?” he asked.

 

Persephone nodded, just as slowly, and Hades sat back in his lounge chair, spreading his knees just a touch, but enough that he got the message and tripped over himself to get to him.

 

“Don't hurt yourself.”  _ I'm not going anywhere. _

 

Persephone's walk slowed, and it gave him time to breathe, to look, but the seconds without him were agony, his body too hot under the skin.

 

Finally, he stood just in front of him, eyes nearly black, fingers trembling minutely, fully erect-- Hades allowed a hand to come up and cup his hip and Persephone shivered.

 

“You truly want me?”

 

“Since you pulled me back from that ledge.”

 

“No hero complex?”

 

“I have met a million heroes and never wanted.”

 

Hades fingers dragged against the underside of Persephone's curved cock and he let out a strangled moan, cheeks staining red weakly.

 

“Don't tease--”

 

His eyes had to be black as coal now. Hades pulled him closer and Persephone put up a knee on his chaise lounge chair, then tried for the other one; he almost slipped, and Hades’ other hand flew up to steady him. The other smiled softly, ducking his head down to nose along his skin in gratitude.

 

“Would you kiss me?” Persephone whispered, and Hades couldn't help but swallow, his breath against his skin lighting every nerve. “Would you deflower the springtime god?”

 

_ Poetic,  _ he thought.

 

“I would have you,” he answered hoarsely. “I would take you, and make you mine-- the light of my realm.”

 

Like feathers, his lips skated over his jaw, the stubble that somehow didn't make him look old, kissed down and then up his neck-- as he did, Persephone moaned, “Let me be had-- take me-- make me yours--” and like that, his control dropped. 

 

His mouth pressed to the other's, firm, warm, and he wasn't surprised at all to find his lips delectably soft-- he nipped tenderly at them and licked into his mouth and Persephone parted his with a shudder, fingers coming up to curl in his hair and hips grinding down against his silken tunic. Their mouths fitted together perfectly and the kiss went from tentative to frantic, Hades snapping his hips up in time with Persephone rutting his own down-- his pale hands slid the length of his body and gripped at his ass, squeezing, reveling in his supple skin. He was rewarded with a shaky moan, Persephone's hands tightening in his red hair and forcing out a quiet groan.

 

“Gods, you're beautiful,” he breathed into his mouth, and Persephone smiled against his lips, nosing over his cheekbone, then pressing their mouths together once more. His own cock ached: he ignored it in favor of wrapping his fingers around the other man’s length and stroking slowly. He grinned, biting and sucking his new lover’s lips as he arched on his lap and writhed and fucked into his hand, precome slicking the movement easily.

 

“Bed, bed, bed-- oh, gods, I'll hit my edge too early if you don't get me into a bed--”

 

“Bed,” he agreed easily. His breathing had gone faintly labored at the task of keeping him in his lap; regardless, as he stood, he hefted him up around his waist and kissed him hungrily while he walked. It was hard not to be distracted, though his bedchambers were only a room away-- Persephone had his ankles locked tight behind his back, thighs clenched around his waist enough that the warmth of him seeped into his body, his hips thrusting and searching for any friction he could get. Hades couldn't hold himself back from slamming him against a wall and practically fucking him through his own clothes, growling when his head was yanked from nipping up that stretch of naked neck.

 

“Why are you still  _ clothed _ ,” Persephone panted, complaining, hands dragging from his hair down to his shoulders and trying to touch, expose, tear the long robes away from him. Hades looked at him, his dark eyes and that deep, concentrated frown, and suddenly, overtaking him, was a laugh, a deep, bubbling laugh, shaking his shoulders and aching in his belly. A real laugh: he hadn't had one of those in years, maybe decades.

 

“I forgot,” he admitted, grinning, pressing teasing kisses to his mouth and laughing again and again as he chased after his mouth at every parting. “Too caught up in your body to think about my own.”

 

“And you say you don't like words,” Persephone muttered darkly, but he was flushing again, so it took the edge off. “Wish you didn't like them so much now.”

 

Hades snorted, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw and humming into his ear, “You seemed to have no problem with my words when you writhed in my lap as though possessed,” which turned him a dark scarlet, and he flicked him, which was far too worth it to see his body going that gorgeous color. “Shut up and kiss me properly, Lemon boy.”

 

So he did. It took another three minutes for them to make it to his bed, laughing at each other interspersed with kissing, crashing into things in the hallway and hurriedly straightening them while distracted by the rushed grinding and touching. Once they were inside, however, Hades dropped Persephone on his bed, and much of the laughter ceased. He eyed him from the bed, a quiet, hesitant smile over his lips.

 

“Be gentle? At least for a while?” he asked, and Hades’ skin burned red.

 

“I wouldn't hurt you,” he assured him. “I don't hurt what's mine.”

 

“Am I yours?”

 

“If you want to be.”

 

“I…” he swallowed. Hades tried not to think about the marks he'd left, trying to genuinely listen-- when he'd frequented Olympus, Hera often went on about the idea of sexual consent. It made sense, and his brother was a smart man-- not that he'd taken many lovers. If he was uncomfortable, if he wanted something different. he wanted to know.“I think I'd like that. To be someone's of my choice," Persephone managed. Relief seeped through him at the soft agreement.

 

“Then it's settled.” 

 

At the soft nod of approval, Hades began to undress, his black robes sliding over his skin and pooling at his feet.

 

Persephone whistled lowly, and he was disgustingly pleased at the note of appreciation in it.

 

“You're… my Lord, you are a sight.”

 

“You don't have to call me that-- my name is fine.”

 

Persephone smiled at him, sitting up and reaching out for him; Hades crawled up his bed and over Persephone's body in a move he hoped was attractive. From the way he was kissed, it must have been-- his toes curled and his hands trembled minutely as strong legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him down, and strong arms slipped over his shoulders to slide fingers through his hair, kissing slick and slow, all softness and need; Hades hadn't felt this alive since their rebirth, since the war, since his sister had cut their father into pieces and taken the sky.

 

“Hades,” Persephone murmured. “Lord of the Dead, Fire of the Underworld, my keeper, my lover, my only.” He punctuated each word with a soft press of lips, and for a long moment, Hades wondered if he hadn't been struck by Eros.

 

“I'm no poet,” he whispered.  _ I can't give you pretty words and promises like another man might. _

 

Persephone nosed slowly against his jaw. “That is fine,” he said. “I have poems enough for the both of us. What I care about now are your actions, and how you treat me in those. Make me properly yours. I couldn't want anyone else.”

 

Hades pulled back, took a moment to stare, making sure his intent was genuine and not borne out of fear, and he nodded.

  
“Roll over,” he ordered lowly. “I'll make you ready for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, y'all.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ hoenursey, I fixed the little... feature... where my ask link accidentally lead to, um..... a porn website. Yeah.


	4. Heliotropium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We earn our explicit rating, or, Persephnursey gets pounded in the ass.
> 
> But like. With love. I mean also a dick, but a loving dick. A horny, loving, way too emotionally invested dick.

 

This was damn near enough to drive him to orgasm.

 

He didn't know how many minutes had passed, but it was enough that Persephone's ass, thighs, and hips were littered with lovebites and hungered bruises. Three of his pale fingers were buried deep inside of him and dripping with hot olive oil that slid down between his pert cheeks, down his spread thighs-- Hades’ other hand was focused on keeping his lover still, though he continued to jerk his hips and fight to grind down onto his sheets.

 

“Oh, _gods, there,”_ Persephone groaned, fists clenched in his sheets, hips twitching like he couldn't decide whether to thrust into the sensation of his fingers or get the friction he wanted, and Hades lavished him with sucking kisses all down his spine to the point where they were joined, working his fingers and feeling almost drunk. Ruling this world was nothing-- this was power.

 

“Good?”

 

He could only breathlessly gasp for a minute; wickedly, Hades continued slowly fucking his fingers into him and teasing at him as he tried to speak. “Ah- oh, oh, fuck…!” he groaned, pressing his face into the pillow, fingers seizing onto the sheets. “ _Amazing, gods.”_

 

He worked another finger in, a slow twist, and poured more oil as he moved: it drew a slow whine out of Persephone as four fingers pushed in and out of his stretched hole.

 

“No more,” he begged, breathless. “I'll-- I don't want to reach my end without you--”

 

“Fuck,” Hades breathed. “Yes, gods, anything.”

 

_Anything you want. My whole kingdom, if you desire it._

 

He slipped his fingers out as slowly as he could-- even then, Persephone made a soft noise of protest, to which he whispered, _“Shh, hush, sunflower, only a moment,”--_ and he took a slow moment to slick himself up.

 

“Turn over,” he murmured. “I want to see your face.”

 

Persephone took a moment to process this, and then slowly shifted-- Hades slipped an arm under his back and distracted him with a slow, sweet kiss while his free hand lined his cock up with the spread hole and eased inside.

 

“ _Fuck--”_

 

Gods. Gods. Gods, he couldn't think; he was only halfway inside of him, but he wasn’t sure burying himself fully within him wouldn’t instantly bring him to orgasm. Hades gritted his teeth, trying to bring himself down

“Is this--”

 

“Not enough,” he said shakily. “Go all the way-- I'm yours, take me like I am.”

 

Hades hadn't noticed the fine tremble in his body until that moment, but now, he practically shook with arousal. It was deathly intense: he moved his hand to grip at his headboard after wiping the sweat from his brow. “I don't want to hurt you.”

 

Persephone took a shaky breath. “The pleasure is greater than any imagined pain. They burn together. You could whip me across my ass and I think I would not feel it in this moment.”

 

“You enchant me,” he whispered. “Gods…”

 

“You should fuck me,” Persephone whispered back, a lopsided grin on his lips. Even so, Hades could tell he was flustered from the tremble just beneath his skin and the rosiness of his cheeks. He curled his hand into his hair, pulling him even closer and letting that smile ghost his mouth. “Even more enchanting.”

 

“Smart mouth,” Hades muttered, though he could only grin back. “See if you talk so much when I do.”

 

“If I'm not old and gr-- _Gaia…!”_

 

He'd thrust in just as he'd begun to smirk, and he chuckled, nipping at his ear a bit. “Hades, actually.”

 

“Fuck- oh, my gods, gods- fuck you,” Persephone gasped, and Hades stopped his trail of kisses down the man's throat to comment-- or tried. Persephone shoved his head back down and moaned, “Shut _up, shut up, I know it's the other way around,”_ legs tightening around his waist. It caused him to clench around Hades’ already too hard cock and he swore lowly, snapping his hips to thrust into the tight, hot hole, all jokes forgotten. His mouth continued its path and nipped, sucked, took a pert brown nipple and lavished it with attentions until Persephone arched and cried out beneath him, practically fucking himself on his body. Oddly enough, the idea of that only aroused him more.

 

“ _Harder!”_ “I don't want to--” “ _Take me, gods, please, I need it--”_

 

Hades groaned and gripped the headboard with both hands and slammed into his lover until he screamed at the sensation and he knew, he'd hit that angle to make him go mad, nails scratching and digging into his back. His body felt too hot in the best way, wrapped in a lover’s embrace, spine dipping as he rolled his hips like liquid. He couldn't stop like this-- the sharp noise of skin on skin in a chamber that had never known sound, the filthy slick slide of oil going as he moved, the tiny hurt, _“Ah, ah, ah,”_ that escaped Persephone's mouth every time he moved within him.

 

Gods, he couldn't just have this, have him, for one night and one alone. He'd never want someone like this again.

 

“Uh- _u-uh…”_

 

Persephone went stiff, nails scratching  and clenching, hips shifting. He couldn't tear his eyes from him, memorizing those little telltale signs of an impending orgasm for himself to keep.

 

“Come, Persephone,” Hades murmured. He was already a sight, let alone in the heat of climax, and he was almost fully certain watching his orgasm would bring him to his own.

 

“But you haven't--”

 

“After you,” he interrupted, low, a quiet smile on his lips that he brushed over his neck. The boy shivered at the touch. “Only after you.”

 

“I want to help you,” he mumbled, but his legs were trembling and Hades doubted he would last much longer for his first time-- he moved slowly, in and out in short movements, allowing him to feel every inch of stretch and he relished the way Persephone's hand tightened its grip, digging into his skin, his other hand a fist in the sheets as his head fell back on to the pillows. He whimpered, helpless, stomach clenching arrhythmatically as his flushed cock leaked against it.

 

“I need no help. You can feel me inside of you, can't you? Above you, taut with effort? I most assuredly don't need help. I want you to. It's your first time, not mine.”

 

“Don't make me jealous,” Persephone moaned. He shifted restlessly, fighting his orgasm so desperately that he took pity on him; Hades smiled and pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple, grinding his cock in smoothly until Persephone gasped as though he were short for breath, clutching him again. “Not another lover compares.”

With taunting abruptness, he snapped his hips into the tight warmth of his body and groaned, "So pretty on my cock," with his lips brushing his ear and Persephone snapped, coming, coming, in hot short bursts across his lean stomach, hard enough that he sobbed into Hades’ white shoulder, rubbing off against the coarse red hair that went from his navel to the base of his own erection still buried inside of him, hard enough that his seed spilled up to his firm chest, hard enough that when he shouted “ _Hades!”_ he answered with a groan of “ _Persephone,”_ and came within a heartbeat of him. He fucked through both of their orgasms, the sound of his own thick cock thrusting obscene in the echo of the chamber. Loud, but not as loud as his heart beating and ichor rushing in his own ears-- real tears beaded at the corners of Persephone's eyes and sparkled on his lashes like stars, desperately bemoaning of his body's sensitivity, hands scrabbling for purchase along his back and finding it in his skin, nails pressing handholds in the flesh as delicate crescent moons laced with pain-- Beautiful, beautiful. He rolled his hips in a slow, sensuous move he hadn't known he could do and a hungry smile came out against his will when his lover's thighs grew tight on the pullout, only lax when his sharp hipbones practically dug into his plush rear.

 

The only sound now was their laboured breathing. Hades buried his face into Persephone's shoulder and let his hips make the smallest of undulations until every breath he made didn't sound fucked out of him.

 

“I've never felt like this in my life,” Persephone mumbled when Hades had finally stopped, settled atop him. He sounded drunk. It was thrilling to know that he was the source.

 

“Good?” he asked, nosing over his jaw. Persephone sighed contentedly.

 

“ _Amazing,”_ he answered. “I’m almost certain i’ll be sore in the morning, though.”

 

Something in him was irrationally pleased about this idea, and he kissed over one of the many dark bite marks he’d left on Persephone’s neck. “Don’t worry,” he hummed. “You only become sore if you’re given time to rest.”

 

The answering laugh was the sweetest he’d ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally had sex! Holy fuck! Literally!
> 
> Sorry i've been behind on updates lately, life has... gotten in the way. Hopefully I can post again on Thursday.
> 
> Again, the usual-- follow me on timboblr for little snippets and shit. I write a lot of nurseydex stuff on there (@ hoenursey.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, y'all. We're halfway there (I think). I still haven't written the ending, but I know what's gonna happen, sO.
> 
> tchau for now!
> 
> -Moony


	5. Antirrhinum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, non-explicit sex nonsense, a confession, semi-erotic fruit consumption, and a cliffhanger.

Another round, another three rounds, who knew-- but Hades lay on his back, sunk into the plush pillows with Persephone sprawled across him. His face was tucked into the crook of his neck, spent body loose and easy atop his own with a hand tracing slow patterns over his steady-beating heart.

 

“You should eat something,” Hades whispered, unwilling to break the easy atmosphere too much. “Put something in your stomach.”

 

“I have something in my stomach,” his lover said. He could hear the sleepy laughter in his voice and swatted him gently on the rear for his cheekiness, but chuckled quietly with him.

 

“Food, you ass. What do you like-- meats? Ambrosia? Sweets?”

 

Persephone considered this for a moment, looking up at him from his spot against his collarbone.

 

“Fruit. I love fruit-- sometimes, it’s all I eat. I’ll be happy to eat that.”

 

“Then fruit it is.”

 

Hades reached over and rung the little bell he kept at his bedside table-- it was only barely used, but he’d be damned if he was getting up now. Persephone reached up and cupped his jaw to kiss him, and that was how his servant found them-- one pale hand cupping firm ass, Persephone’s arms looped loosely around him, moaning and giggling softly at one another every time they broke their kiss for air. The boy yelped, trying and failing to stifle his own reaction: Hades hadn’t bothered to cover them.

 

“Bring fruit, set it at our bedside, leave us be unless I call on you again or there is some dire emergency,” he called out, and his servant nodded, seemingly trying to avoid looking at the stretches of bare skin before him. Hades smirked privately, and waved the boy off.

 

Persephone slapped his chest weakly. “He didn’t deserve that.”

 

“To see your ass? No, I don’t think many deserve that pleasure,” he said, unable to fight off the wide smile at his own joke, and Persephone hit him again but he was laughing, body shaking with the effort to hold it in.

 

“You’re horrible.”

 

“Yes,” he admitted. “And for laughing, you’re horrible as well.”

 

Persephone mumbled something into his chest, and Hades nudged him until he looked up.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” he said, evasive. Hades rolled his eyes, and Persephone pushed his face away.

 

“It's nothing!”

 

“If it was nothing, you would tell me,” he reasoned, sitting up on an elbow. “What?”

 

“Nothing!” His cheeks had gone dark with blush, and he wouldn't look at him, and Hades grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. “What is so embarrassing that you can cry my name without shame because I am buried inside of you--”

 

_ “Hades!” _

 

“But this--” he leaned up, kissing the tip of his nose, over his lips, a cheek, “You can't say this? Must be filthy.”

 

“It isn't, I swear--”

 

“Tell me, then!”

 

“No!”

 

“Tell-” 

 

“Me-”

 

“What-”

 

“You-”

 

“Saaaaaid-”

 

Each word he punctuated with a kiss-- to his lips, his sternum, to one of the million little bite marks he'd left all over body-- at one point he knocked him over to press more kisses to more skin.

 

“Stop--” but he was laughing, hard, swatting at him like a cat and covering his face. “Stop! Stop, Hades,” Persephone begged between bursts of laughter. He tried to push him away, but Hades only caught his two hands and lavished them with little kisses, then pinned them down with a single hand, grinning down at him and then kissing him full on the mouth again until his body went slack, melting into the kiss, no longer trying to push away.

 

“Fine- ah- I’ll- mm- tell-- yo-ou...” he sighed between breaks for air, eyes only half opening each time. It gave him a hazy, sleepy look, that only made him want to kiss him more, but he didn't, only looking fondly down.

 

“You're so damned persistent,” Persephone murmured. He slipped one wrist from his grasp, going to card through his red hair with easy rhythm. “Why do you even want to know?”

 

“Don't want you to be ashamed of telling me something,” he said softly. “Anything.”

 

“Oh,” he whispered, and Hades had to kiss him, taste that gentleness, but he broke it quickly, not wanting to deter him.

 

“You called me horrible,” Persephone answered. His voice was still… hesitant, but it was coming out, and he appreciated that, nodding a little to encourage him.

 

“And?”

 

“And I said I was horribly in love with you.”

 

Hades blinked.

 

_ Oh,  _ he thought.  _ So that's why he didn't want to tell me. _

 

After just a hair too long of silence, Persephone seemed to grow anxious, breaking his loose grip on the one wrist he hadn't already freed, sitting up a little. 

 

“You don't have to feel the same way-- oh, gods, I-- right, this could be just sex for you, and that's fine if it is, maybe I'm only saying that because I- you know, I was-- you're my first. I understand what sex does to people--”

 

He seemed to be visibly fighting any reaction, but he'd been judging the souls of the dead for thousands of years: he could read one man, and that man was hurt and struggling to hide it. It was written in the tightness of his shoulders, the tuck of his lip beneath his white teeth, the unnatural, purposeful steadiness of his voice.

 

“Please say something,” Persephone mumbled. It was too quiet for his liking. All he could think to do was lean down, cup his face, and kiss him, with the quiet assurance he'd seemed to have always had.

 

“You said I was horrible as well, didn't you?” Hades asked.

 

Persephone nodded. His eyes were still closed.

 

“Look at me,” he said. Persephone's eyes opened, hesitant, always beautiful, from the first moment he'd seen them.

 

“You said I was horrible as well,” he continued. “So should it not stand that I am, as well, horribly in love with you?”

 

There was a brief beat of absolute silence, and then--

 

“ _ What?”  _ Persephone demanded, sitting all the way up now. He looked incredulous.

 

“Of course I am, Persephone,” Hades said, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. “You aren't the only one who assigns meaning to sex. I don't take lovers-- period. Even when I was younger, they were few and far between.”

 

“So you really--” he swallowed. “I’m special, then, hm?”

 

“You could say that.”

 

“But would you?”

 

“I think I just did.”

 

“Right, uh… yeah. Oh.”

 

“Mm, oh,” he said, lips curving up into a crooked smile.

 

“I suppose I had no need to worry,” he said haltingly, and Hades chuckled, settling into the bed next to him and opening his arms to give him space to crawl into if he so chose. He did, and soon, he had a lap full of warm spring god, curled naked on top of him, content with his soft breath ghosting over his skin as he exhaled, slow and steady.

  
  


Hades’ servant came in a little while later, late enough that they'd grown sleepy, talking softly to one another, their eyes only half open. He set the tray at his bedside flowing with fruits, lightly fragrant, and then bowed, taking his leave.

 

“You should eat something,” Hades murmured. “Replenish your energy.”

 

“Do you,” Persephone yawned into the crook of his neck, then nuzzled back there sleepily, “plan on wearing me down again, and giving me reason to desire replenishing it?”

Hades went scarlet. Gods, the boy was brazen, and he felt a quiet heat spike at just the thought of it.

“If you keep talking like that, you'll put me in a mind to,” he muttered, and Persephone smiled against his skin. “Mm, is that so,” he whispered. “You should develop a stronger constitution. I've heard I cannot keep my mouth shut.”

“That's why I'm putting fruit into it. To give you reason to hush,” Hades retaliated, smiling lopsidedly.

“So the truth comes out,” Persephone began, but was quieted by the gentle press of Hades’ fingers, a thick, juice-filled kernel of pomegranate seed held in it. He glanced briefly up to meet Hades’ eyes, and then, in an act of defiance, fixed his lips over the seed in the most filth driven way possible. It was almost more of a kiss, lips soft against the tips of his fingers, until they dragged down, tongue skating up from the base of his fingers until it curled around the seed, pulling it from his grasp and into his mouth with grace. Persephone licked at his lips, clearing them of excess juice, but his mouth was already stained a pretty red for his efforts.

He thought his heart was racing. Surely, Persephone could hear it.

“Another one,” Persephone murmured. It sounded like an order. He obeyed without argument.

They went on like that for what seemed like hours but was in actuality only minutes, or maybe seconds-- Hades hand feeding his lover, Persephone eating with increasingly erotic grace. Before long, he had captured Hades’ hand in his own, fixing his mouth along his fingers and sucking the spilled juice from each one until his breathing nearly stilled.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” he said softly. “Not for fruit.”

He let his leg settle on the other side of Hades’ body, straddling his waist. “What do you hunger for?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he cupped his jaw, eyes focused, unwavering.

“To be one again.” Persephone's hands ran the length of his pale figure until he could cup his cock, curl his fingers around and stroke him until he knew nothing but the same hunger to be one.

Hours later, they lay together-- drowsy, sated, marked as one another's. Hades turned his head to ask Persephone something, but he had already slipped from consciousness, sprawled atop him, and he smiled. 

It didn't last long, unfortunately.

  
“ _ Where. Is. He!”  _ a voice snarled, and Hades groaned. Here was his retribution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Rans, the angel of people getting their MF comuppance. Get fucked, Hades, and for once I don't mean that literally.
> 
> again, you should follow me on the blue hells(h)ite that is tumblr @ hoenursey.tumblr.com


	6. Calendula Officinalis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in Paradise, to say the least, and to say the most, the world is not a haze of sexual activities and unreasonably erotic fruit consumption and sometimes, people need to be reminded of that. However, we as this group consisting of you, the dear readers, and myself, the dreaded writer, are going to linger a liiiiiittle longer in the world of happiness and fluffy sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild somnophilia/dubcon warning: at a certain point in this chapter, Hades engages in morning sexual activity with Persephone while he isn't fully awake. It appears to be non-consensual, but is revealed a few sentences later that Persephone did speak to Hades about waking him up with sex. The sex scene, also, however, has important plot information. If you would like to skip the few seconds of sleep sex that appear to be of non or dubious consent, they will be marked with three bolded asterisks (***). The rest of the sex scene is not marked by the asterisks.
> 
> Much love,
> 
> ~Moony

“Please, sir, our Lord is busy, I don't advise--”

 

“ _ I don't care! You will show me where he is, or you will face Zeus yourself!” _

 

“He's in his room, to the left!”

 

_ Traitor _ , he thought silently, and shifted up on his elbow just as Hermes stormed into his bedchambers.

 

“Where. Is. The boy,” Hermes gritted out. His caduceus glimmered and sparked, the two spirits, now snakes, hissing angrily.

 

“What boy?” Hades asked innocently. He smirked, enjoying the way Hermes’ eye twitched.

 

“You know exactly what boy-- I have no time for games. Earth and Olympus are in turmoil. Give back what you've stolen, before Demeter--”

 

“Stolen?” Hades said incredulously. He pulled back the bedcovers and revealed Persephone's sleeping form, head pillowed on his stomach and an arm tossed across his body.

 

Hermes breathed in sharply.

 

“Does he look  _ stolen?”  _ Hades hissed. “I stole  _ nothing _ . He wandered into my realm. He is  _ mine _ .”

 

_ “You know that isn't--”  _ Hermes began hysterically, but Hades cut him off with a glare so heated, Persephone shifted in his sleep, moving to bury his face in the crook of his neck, whining softly in his sleep. 

 

“You'll wake him with that nonsense. If you're going to be cholic, at least be decent about it.”

 

“You know that isn't how it works, Hades,” he said, far quieter this time.

 

“I know exactly how it works,” Hades said, snorting softly. “He's taken my seed into his body. He belongs, if not to me, to this realm. That stands for gods  _ and  _ mortals.”

 

Hermes’ dark skin had gone paler than Hades had ever seen it, and he relished the idea that it was his fault. It wasn't as though he hated his Olympian family, but he certainly enjoyed the little moments where he could be a little thorn in their sides, an itch in their throats.

 

“You lie.”

 

“I tell nothing but the truth.”

 

Hades tossed the bedcovers to the side, baring Persephone's naked form, a possessive and pleased sensation filling him as Hermes’ cheeks flooded with colour. Near every person who saw him would feel the same way: desire, tainted with the knowledge that they could not have.

 

Hades gripped Persephone's thigh and gently began to shift him. Hermes’ eyes skated downward as if against his will, and he looked vaguely nauseated as his eyes fixated on Persephone's clearly fucked hole; it was stretched, gaping with absence, and leaked a thick, white, viscous something-- his seed.

 

He had to fight off laughter, a hand coming up to cover his lover’s indecency. “I meant not that. You're filthy, Hermes, you need to stop consorting with Dionysus and Apollo so much.”

 

“I was going to say, I am not certain that  _ that  _ seed counts,” he said faintly, and he grinned at him rakishly. 

 

“You have gone weak. Medical illnesses do you no harm, but evidence of sex?”

 

“I knew him as a child!”

 

“I knew you as we were both children,” Hades reminded him, after he had finally manouevered Persephone onto his back. He shifted the blankets back over him, up to his hips. “When you stole cows and hid at your aunt’s side in a cave. Now you imagine you can be my authority. Check his stomach, Hermes, so that you can tell Demeter his son is not his any longer.”

 

“Do I tell his fathers you've deflowered him as well?” Hermes grumbled. He stepped forward anyway, hand hovering over Persephone's stomach, and peered at him.

 

“If you must,” he said casually. “Though you know the phrase is ‘shoot the messenger’--”

 

“I'm well aware, Hades.”

 

Hades chuckled softly. Hermes sighed after a moment and withdrew his hand.

 

“Six seeds,” he muttered. “I have to take this to Zeus. Hopefully, she can shield me when Demeter attempts to bake my corpse into a bread or the like. I'll be back, Hades. By the fates, you know this isn't over. Be prepared.”

 

With that, he was gone, in a flutter of winged sandals.

 

“Mm, who…?” Persephone mumbled drowsily, and Hades shushed him gently, wrapping his arms around him and tugging him so that his back was flush to his stomach. “Sleep, mine own. In the morn.”

 

Persephone laced their fingers together and tugged the bedcovers closer around them, and once again, fell asleep in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

The pale light he'd created to simulate the passage of days, long ago, when he had first begun his rule, was the first thing he noticed, filtering through his wide windows softly. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting slowly as he became conscious of his body, and, consequently, the body he embraced. It was a slow thing; first his toes curled, then his fingers twitched and the nails scraped just barely over Persephone's skin-- he made a drowsy noise of protest and folded his fingers more firmly in his grip-- he then rolled his shoulders and let his neck make a satisfying pop as he moved.

 

This was the warmest he had been in a long time. They were pressed almost fully together, from head to toe-- their legs were tangled together lazily, his nose was buried in the crook of his neck, lips dragging softly over his skin as he yawned. His hand was still curled with Persephone's, resting on his bare stomach. Last of all he noticed that, as Persephone shifted minutely, the typical morning arousal pressed against his lover’s backside.

 

His arm tightened around him, just a touch, and he yawned. He could most definitely wake every day like this. Softly nuzzling at the pretty, smooth skin, Hades pressed a kiss to his neck. Persephone curled somehow only closer and oh,  _ oh,  _ his arousal grew more insistent, from a soft hum to a low, hungry buzzing just under his skin.

 

******* Normally, he ignored it, or took care of it himself, but that was before Persephone. Now he had a lover, and no throwaway paramour, Now they were tangled together in a space he hoped they could share in the coming times. Now, he could feel his body pressed up against him, and he knew he was still loose, and willing, and his.

 

_ His.  _ That was did it for him, in the end. Persephone was all his. He would always be his, he would always have this, this moment. Hades pulled an arm back and dipped it into the pot of oil he kept, stroking over himself, slicking a small amount over Persephone's already wet hole. With an ease that gave him an unreasonable, dark pleasure, Hades slid deep inside of him, bottoming out in one slick thrust. He groaned breathlessly at the sensation of his pliant lover taking him: his body was hot and inside he was slick with oil and spent seed. Persephone shifted in his arms, stiffened up and tightened around him in a way that made him groan again, and then went pliant once more, head tipping back and leaving him one long column of pretty, sandy coloured skin from his neck to their entwined hands.

 

“Mm… to wake like this…” Persephone breathed. Hades grinned softly.

 

“Good? This is alright by you?” he asked, rolling his hips slowly. Persephone shuddered and whined, pressing back into him drowsy but eager.  *******

 

“I told you last night, did I not?” he answered. “I would be content to never leave this bed.”

 

Hades pressed him down, pressed him into the bed so that he was above him, still buried inside of him. “Then don't,” he whispered. He thrust slowly into him, dragged out and then once more back inside, nosed up this spine and neck and breathed deeply the scent of sex and flowers along his skin. It was gratifying to have him beneath him, gasping softly, canting his hips up to meet and take him deeper. “Don't leave me, Persephone…”

 

“Father will…”

 

“Marry me,” Hades whispered, and Persephone's breath caught in his throat. He buried himself deep inside of him, grinding his cock in until a wrecked sob came from his lover's throat. “Marry me, marry me, marry me--”

 

“ _ Gods, why would you--” _

 

“I love you,” Hades murmured. His hand came down and dipped between Persephone's thighs, spreading his legs wider, cupping at the heavy sac, squeezing softly and then letting his fingers dip behind it, pressing, massaging at the stretch of skin: he milked at his prostate with firm, insistent fingers, fucking him with shallow thrusts that punched desperate gasps out of his lungs until he wept, wept into the bedsheets and clenched around him like a vice and broke. It was far, far more beautiful than he could ever imagine in his head; Persephone's body bowed and arched, rocking like he could decide neither what he wanted 

 

_ “Yes, yes! Gods, yes, I'm yours, oh--”  _ he choked out and Hades’ hand remained steady in its place, the left catching his left and gripping it tight as Persephone came endlessly, calling his name in a muffled cry that sent him toppling over the edge soon after.

 

“What did you  _ do  _ to me?” Persephone panted, when they had collapsed onto the bed, Hades reluctant to pull out and therefore still within him, their hands still entwined.

 

“There's more than one way to stimulate your prostate. I used both,” he hummed. Sex made him sleepy, and affectionate, and relaxed, and Persephone seemed to have no problem with it, thankfully.

 

“Well, the next time you plan on doing it, we might want to place a bath towel beneath me,” he said, shifting. “I feel like I've been emptied out of seed.”

 

Hades let out a rumbling laugh and slowly eased out of him so that he could settle. “I didn't exactly plan it. More… just a desire to make you feel good.”

 

“You certainly did that. I'm not quite sure I'm still fully alive.”

 

He lay a row of kisses to the column of his neck, his bare shoulders, any of his spine he could reach, nosing at sun-bathed skin before he was even in a mind to answer.

 

“Lord of the dead,” he said easily, and it took a moment before Persephone realized he was  _ joking  _ with him, actually joking, not snarking, and he let out a startled peal of laughter.

 

Hades kissed along the expanse of his shoulders drowsily, lips curved into a lazy smile. Each kiss drew a little happy sigh from Persephone.

“You and your words. Let me bathe, no? As pleasant as this is, lying in my own spend is growing uncomfortable.”

 

Hades instantly rolled off and let him up, and Persephone made a noise of gratitude, sitting up and stretching gracefully. He stood with the same smoothness, rolling his broad shoulders, and then glanced over at him.

 

“Are you going to join me?” he called, and Hades had no idea how he had become so blessed by the fates.

 

* * *

  
  


Shrouded by mist, Hades took Persephone, cupped his cheek, stroked over the sharp, angular bone there.

 

“They'll come for you,” he warned. His voice couldn't have been said to touch any volume over a murmur.

 

Persephone only smiled, and drew him further into the water.

  
“Let them come,” he whispered. “Let them face us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! So! A lot happened in this chapter!!
> 
> And holy shit! They're married! Or enga(y)ged! Whatever! Are they moving too fast, and is that something that I, as the writer, could likely rectify? Yes! Absolutely!
> 
> Am I going to? Hel no! They're gods, they live forever, Hades hasn't felt anything like this for several hundred years and the last time was when he found his dog! Way longer than Zeus in actual mythology has ever courted anything, ever! Also, people have fucked bulls in mythology! Who gives a fuck! It's a fictional story and i'm an unpaid writer and my life is spiraling into the depths of Tartarus!!!!!1!!1!!!!!1111!!! I just want my queer sons to be happy!
> 
> aNygays, we're getting into some Real Plot Shit, so, stay tuned. I've got more writing to do-- up to this point, i've basically had it all written, and it's just been a point of me getting the shit posted. I'm a lazy fucker, know, but i'm a BUSY lazy fucker.
> 
> u kno tha drill, follow me on tumblr @ hoenursey for more little ficbits and me, shitposting into the sun, desperately searching for pictures of nursey in every single update. (also, can someone teach me how to make words into links on here? holy shit, that'd be great.)
> 
> tchau!


	7. Juniperus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bubble is breaking for Hades and Persephone-- but first, a little more fluff.

"I think I may have something you can wear,” Hades said. Persephone grinned at him.

“Why, do you dislike this ensemble?” he asked, turning slowly and innocently glancing at his naked body as it were something curious.

Hades grumbled quietly. Gone was the brazenness he'd summoned during sex, and his sense had returned, but it seemed his lover knew no such shyness.

“I like it too much,” he muttered, grumpy, and he could feel Persephone’s amusement from ten feet away; he turned back to rifle through the clothing, ears burning.

Behind him, Persephone walked towards him near silently, and then wrapped his arms around his waist, tucking his chin over his shoulder.

“What do I call you, in your court?” he hummed. “I don't wish embarrassment, or dishonour upon you, but our relationship is…”

“Somewhat closer than the other members of my court?” Hades asked dryly. Persephone laughed near silently-- a rasping, gentle thing.

“Yes, that. Do I say your name? Do I call you my Lord?”

“I think that's fine,” he said. He caught Persephone's hand and lightly stroked over the knuckles, admiring the difference in their skins, but Persephone hadn't finished.

“Could I call you Husband?” he asked tentatively.

Hades’ breath caught, remembering in a flood of emotions that yes, he had asked him to marry him in a fit of passion, and that yes, he had said yes-- he hadn't forgotten, but it hit him again, with just as much force.

“When I marry you properly,” he said firmly. “When we have our union recognized. Then, I cannot and will not stop you. I would have you call me Husband until our strings of fate reach their ends.”

“Beloved,” Persephone whispered. Hades exhaled slowly.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

  
Persephone was a vision in blacks and whites. He’d donned one of Hades’ himations in cool black cotton, pinned loosely at the waist on his left side that left the skin from his neck to his hip bare (and the marks he'd left a dark beacon, of which he felt irrationally pleased). A white wool shawl draped over his right shoulder, starkly contrasted with both his skin and the himation, and his nails were still painted creamy ivory-- on top of that, he'd brushed his fingers through his hair gingerly and little bells of white wisteria has blossomed through his dark, unruly curls. He'd left his feet bare, and something about that was so endearing that Hades had knelt before him, pressing a soft kiss to the arches that made him laugh and go pink and asters bloom between his toes. Persephone swatted him, but took his arm, pressing a kiss to his lips that put flowers in his own hair. They walked side by side out of his chambers, Persephone chattering aimlessly until he caught a glance of something, and then stopped abruptly.

“Oh, Zeus,” he muttered. “Beloved, please don't be upset with me--”

Hades snapped out of the daze he'd been in and frowned slightly. “Why would I be?”

Persephone gave him a look that he read immediately as a fond exasperation, then tipped his chin up with a hand so that he would look up to the window.

The window was covered in ivy. Somehow, he knew instinctively that the entire palace was coated in the plant, and he turned his face to his lover, raising a brow. Persephone looked embarrassed.

“Uh. Um. I think-- when you said you loved me? Or when you asked me to marry you,” he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This usually doesn’t happen, I swear-- I mean, the flowers everywhere, yes, obviously, but this many-- it’s my feelings, and-- it felt good, yes? Maybe, ah, paired with sex? I’m-- well of course I wouldn’t know about how my flora react to sex, I was--”

“What does it mean?” Hades asked, interrupting.

“Serious emotional attachment?” Persephone said meekly.

Hades gave a little half grin. “So you're attached to me, little cherry blossom?”

“You asked me. To _marry_ you,” he responded flatly. “And i'm the attached one?”

“I didn't cover an entire palace in ivy.”

“You don't have the power, you--”

“I could cover it in something!”

“What, bones?” he taunted. Hades stuck his tongue out at him and yanked him in, caught him by the waist.

“I'll cover you in bones. Little chicken bones, have you squawking and dancing and pecking for wheat--” he proceeded to kiss his face in little “pecks”, and Persephone jerked back, laughing, crying “Stop, stop!” but Hades didn't, not until he was caught up in an arm and pulled in for  
a real kiss that they both melted into; Hades dipped him back slightly and Persephone whimpered softly, fingers tightening in his fiery hair.

“To court,” he murmured against his lips. “Or i'll have you taken back to our bed.”

“To court,” he agreed weakly. Hades eased him upright and then offered his arm-- yes, he was a touch off in his romantic pursuits, but he had a sense of manners about him nonetheless-- Persephone took it with a radiant smile.

The curtain of ivy parted for them as if willed away and the pale false light seeped through, warming them ever so slightly. Even the dead grass grew below Persephone’s bare feet to soften his step and carry him to court with him by his side. It grew under his feet as well, more slowly, almost shyly, though Persephone's face gave no emotion excepting a gentle happiness away.

* * *

 

“A moment,” Hades murmured as they reached the bouleuterion, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Close your eyes.”

Persephone obliged, smiling curiously.

He drew away, nodding quietly to a guard. Watch him, he mouthed, and the guard nodded curtly.

The building was quiet, still, those he had to serve underneath him only just coming in. He greeted them quietly and then stepped up to his throne.

He hadn't done this is a very, very long time. It required meaning, intent, passion, emotions he'd repressed for a very long number of centuries.

 _Persephone_ , something in him whispered. _You held nothing back for him._

And he hadn't.

A great creaking and groaning began to sound, twisting from beneath the ground-- a rumble like the purr of a sphinx and a twisting akin to the sound of Poseidon’s storm twisting and snapping oak trees shook the steadiness beneath his feet. Throughout, he stood firm, unmoving, pale hands outstretched as the ghostly white bones of his dead bent and broke to form a throne that sat, proud, beside his own.

It didn't feel like enough, but for now, it made his position obvious.

“Bring him out,” Hades called.

The guard appeared, an arm out to Persephone, whose eyes were still carefully closed, then handed him off to Hades.

“It's not much,” he said fretfully. “But it’s yours. Open?”

His eyes blinked open to see first Hades, and then the white throne behind him. His whole visage lit up, from his wide eyes to the smile unfurling at his lips like petals, and he took one of his hands in his own.

“Not much?” He breathed, incredulous. “The very look of it imposes, looms over me. It is very much. A thing of beauty.”

“I wanted to do… more, I suppose. I don't know. You're beautiful. I wanted something to match. I just-- I couldn't garner the emotion I needed to. Even this required much.”

“You don't allow yourself to feel much, do you?”

“No. It clouds my judgement. I think most would not marry one after a few days, though regret is very, very far from my mind. I just want more, with you. For you.”

  
“Then make more,” Persephone murmured.

“I don't--”

Persephone leaned in and dragged his lips over his ear, whispering softly; Hades went scarlet, but jewels and gold sprung from the ground and began to thread over the white throne until it was crusted in them.

“You're absolutely filthy,” he sputtered. “Now I see why your father kept you by his side--”

“All the repression has given me time to ferment,” Persephone said smugly. “My imagination is the finest wine around.”

Hades gave him a flat look, then reached out and tugged on a springy curl. “I'll hold you to that little whispering.”

Now it was Persephone's turn to pinken.

“Let me put my touch on your throne,” he said, changing the subject with a lack of subtlety so blatant he snorted.

“Go ahead.”

He pulled away, sticking his tongue out as he went, but his long fingers delicately traced over the arms and back of the throne, moving around it as if he were dancing: before his eyes, flowers blossomed as though they came straight from the tips of his fingers. Ivy, jasmine, twining soft through the gnarled and blackened bones of his own throne-- Hades came up behind him and captured his waist with an arm, lying his free hand atop Persephone's. It took a moment, but he shook off his hesitation and pressed lingering kisses over his bare shoulder and the flowers blossoming crystallized and became edged with gold along their petals.

“Now this is a throne,” Persephone hummed.

“Fit for a king,” Hades agreed fondly.

* * *

 

There was nothing they could do, now, save wait for their retribution. Hades didn't want to waste any moment with him, and thus merely oversaw the souls filtering through his court. After so long, Persephone left his throne and simply perched on the arm of his own, legs dangling loosely until he took them into his lap and let his hands stroke up and down his calves aimlessly. They summoned another dish of fruits and ate lazily together until the doors to the court were thrown wide and golden light inundated the hall.

“Our visitors, beloved,” Persephone murmured, sipping at his cup of wine. Hades stole it from him, lips twisting up a wry smile, and took a deep draught.

“It seems so, sunflower.” He drank again, and then said, “I will hide you. Buy more time, and perhaps stall your father’s rage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello there! Long time no see!
> 
> Sorry i've been gone so long-- the changing seasons, work, class, health-- life's adventures have just kind of gotten in the way!
> 
> And i'm extra sorry that the chapter I came back with is a filler chapter. I promise all the drama begins in the next chapter, which I swear will be up by next Tuesday and I swear will be much, much longer. It's a little dialogue heavy right now, so i'm editing for more action and stuff. A warning: Demeter!Bitty is. very fucking angry.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys liked this. I'm thinking this is going to be about ten chapters, so maybe three more? It's more like two and an epilogue. Maybe it'll be eleven chapters, I don't know. I'm still writing this. The only thing i'm mostly done with as of now is the next chapter and my stripper!dex fic.
> 
> Speaking of strippers, follow me on tumblr so that I can put together a playlist for my stripper!nursey fic and actually start writing it! My check please sideblog is over @ hoenursey.tumblr.com
> 
> As always, thank y'all for reading!


	8. Succotrina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace? That's over. That's cancelled.
> 
> Welcome to Total Drama Island: Olympus

Hades watched stonily as Demeter stormed towards him, souls and judges parting anxiously in the wake of his rage. Behind him followed Hephaestus, Apollo, Hermes, Hera, and of course, Zeus, face calm but little bolts about her body crackling and snapping that betrayed her irritation.

  
“Thief,” Demeter snarled at the base of the stairs just before his throne, heat and sunshine twisting about his body. “Filthy, dirt mongering, lowlife ground dweller--”

  
With a great roar, a fiery blaze began to light around him: it curled up the stairs to his throne, scorching anything that had not already been black, some fallen petals curling and crackling and then consumed.

Persephone's petals-- _Persephone._

Before he could think, a great ring of ice curled around the thrones to save him and the flowers they had made together.

  
This was madness. Their whole pantheon was mad.

  
Black glass shot up as Hades stood, snarling at his family, and Demeter's flames bounced enclosed it but didn't reach him. He felt rather than heard Persephone's sharp intake of breath and his heart hardened further, angry that he couldn't reach out to him for his own safety.

  
“You know not where your son is and yet deign to hurt the god of this realm, Demeter?” he snapped. “You can only be stupider than I ever imagined a god could be.”

  
“I'll find him when your body is roasting over a spit, where it belongs,” Demeter spat back. The fire only increased, and with a slashing gesture of Hades hand spike after spike of broken bones forced their way from the ground towards Demeter until he was yanked back by his husband’s arms, forced to retreat. Just as well-- the last one had ended just where Demeter's throat would have been.

  
“Where is the boy?” Zeus asked. Her voice spoke of weeks of exhaustion.

  
“He sits before you. Your eyes are only weak.”

  
“If I had wanted riddles I would seek out the sphinx, Corpse Keeper--” Demeter shrieked, but Hephaestus picked him up and kept a tight grip on his so that he might not fling himself towards the throne.

  
Zeus looked to Demeter to Hephaestus and back to Hades.

  
“I am not inclined to agree with much right now, but Demeter is right,” she said, voice clipped. “No games, Hades. You know nothing of the world above your head.”

  
“Then tell me,” he challenged. “Make me see- you may speak to him if I find the stakes high enough.”

  
Zeus glanced back and jerked her chin at Hermes. “Show him.”

  
A screen of light appeared before him and he frowned, before it began to glow, and then a wasteland seemed to grow before his very eyes.

  
Deadened trees and stalks, browned grass, rotted fruits-- it was a dead zone of foliage and topography like a nightmare, the fields of Asphodel tainted with rot. Golden stalks of wheat so once prided had gone black and brittle, breaking off in the wind and blowing away. That which remained no longer flowed with the smoothness of a steady ocean, but jerked this way and that with each breeze. The longer he watched, the worse it became: fallen fruits molded and breaking to become one with the ground, dirt blown away, fungi the only thing flourishing in the nightmare of a land.

  
“What--”

  
“Demeter,” Hera interrupted grimly. “You must show his son, or soon all of Gaia’s skin will know this.”

  
His brow furrowed, hesitant.

  
“Please,” Hephaestus murmured. “We just want our son.”

It was Hephaestus who broke him, then; the open sadness in his drooping eyes and the tension in his jaw

  
He sighed softly, but leaned over and brushed a finger over Persephone's cheek and stroked along his side until he and his throne returned to full visibility.

  
“Hello, Father,” Persephone said solemnly.

  
Demeter looked shocked, but wrenched himself from his husband’s grip and ran towards him, all flames dying as he reached out for his son. Hades tensed, but Persephone's hand brushed his and he whispered, “Let him have this, beloved, just this.”

  
Hephaestus was just behind him, bright blue eyes soft with happiness as Demeter clutched their son to his chest. His hand came out and brushed over his curls, and Persephone leaned into the far less suffocating touch.

  
“Papa, Father, i'm sorry to worry you,” he murmured softly, and Hades had to look away from him. For a moment he did feel like a thief-- of his intended’s youth and family, of the light and warmth so clearly provided for him-- but then Persephone squeezed his hand tightly, twining their fingers where his parents couldn't see.

  
“No, honeybee, we just missed you,” Demeter simpered. “Away like that--” he plucked a flower from his hair and clucked his tongue quietly, tossing it to the side. Hades’ heart clenched.

  
“Being silly again. You're a young boy, but you're growing, you'll learn little things like wasting flora for self decoration have no place. We ought have watched you more closely, i'm so sorry. I won't let you out of my sight again, Persephone, promise. Come home, darling, I promise we'll be closer than ever. This is no place for you-- i’m sorry we lost you to such filth.”

  
The hesitation in his eyes was clear as day, and with a rolling nauseated sensation, he felt in his heart that he was leaving; he had lost him at the sight of the family he’d forgotten to miss.

 

  
“I'm not going back,” he said softly.

  
He felt more than saw the bonds of wheat shooting from the ground-- Hades threw an arm across Persephone's chest and it was the only thing that snatched him from his father’s growth.

  
“You’re what?” Demeter shrieked. “You are not staying here, I refuse to leave my child--” his hands shot out and Persephone flinched back from him.

  
“I am your son but not your child, Father, I cannot be called that,” Persephone tried to explain. “I love this world for all its darkness and I know its heart.”

  
“You are a boy! You know naught but flowers and fields--”

  
Stalks of wheat whipped around his ankles and bound there; Persephone looked to him with panic in his eyes as he tried to kick and free himself to no avail.

  
“Demeter, you frighten your son,” Hades said, trying for peace. “Let him--”

  
“Cease your honeyed words from dirt laden lips, Dead God, you know nothing,” Demeter said hotly, and now, over everything else, he was angry-- before he could think, he snapped, “My lips know more intimately your son and what comes from his own than you could ever hope to achieve, so mind your disrespect before I reach through my dirt and curdle your harvest for centuries to come.”

  
The silence was deafening. Hades felt disgustingly satisfied at Demeter’s dropped jaw and pale skin, though maybe a little guilty at the shock on Hephaestus’ face, but it was worth it for the pretty, private, surprised smile lighting Persephone's face.

  
“You-” Demeter choked out. His eyes skated over Persephone’s bare skin, catching over the bruises and lighting with understanding and horror as he realized just what they were from. “You. You fucked my… my son. You--”

  
Hephaestus couldn't even stop the speeding bullet that was Demeter launching himself at Hades. His face was contorted with rage and he recoiled, but too slow; Demeter’s ragged nails scraped across his face and sliced at his face, screaming at the top of his lungs as he hit him. He heard screaming, maybe his own, maybe Persephone's, and felt hands beating away Demeter’s attacks to no avail. It took four people to wrench him away, pinning him down-- Apollo, Hephaestus, Hera, and Zeus, who settled on his chest, huffing and puffing.

  
Persephone stood before him in a flurry of motion and cradled Hades’ face in his hands, muttering angrily to himself. The acute tremor through his hands brushed up against his cheeks, but he felt the cuts healing, closing under his betrothed’s gentle administrations. “He had no right,” he hissed. “No right at all to hurt you like that-- you'll have a scar, beloved, i'm sorry, I can't do any better.”

  
Hades kissed his hand, shushing him quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, Demeter fought his captors, spitting in their direction until a thick vine snapped itself across his mouth and another dragged him to the ground by an arm.

  
“That is enough, all of you,” Zeus said, exasperated. “Persephone, explain yourself, I am not dealing with your father another month.”

  
“Month?”

Persephone turned to her, paling.

“I've been gone a month?”

  
The vine holding his father wilted and died just as quickly as it had grown.

  
“Time doesn't-- it isn't the same in the underworld,” Apollo said breathlessly, a hand over Demeter’s mouth as he struggled. “Ow! Quit biting me, I am trying to help you! Persephone, tell us what happened, _please_."

  
“I--” Persephone swallowed, looking over at his parents, and then Hades. A resolve seemed to come to him, and he nodded. 

“I had grown lost, originally,” he began. “I… wanted to get away, you see? I was tired, of my father babying me. He still saw me as the fresh springtime cabbage he plucked from his garden all those years ago, and I was exhausted of- of the standards, the expectations, the dismissals.”

  
Demeter made a hurt noise. “Persephone--”

  
“Hush. You owe it to him to have his voice,” Zeus said shortly.

  
Persephone looked over at Zeus- she nodded curtly to him to continue. He breathed in shakily. “I am a full god, as any of you are. And I love the things I love. Song, poetry, socializing. Good wine. The company of women, men, others.”

  
Apollo, Hermes, and Hera shared a look, and then gave encouraging smiles to Persephone. He smiled calmly back at them, every inch composed, and Hades realized at that moment that he only saw the emotion behind his promised one's mask.

"Because of those I spend time with, I have been shaped into something other than my father's image."

  
Hades’ heart went out to them all. Instinctively, he knew that he could credit them with many of the things Persephone loved, and the things that made up the person he had come to love.

  
“I wanted more, though. To know more, be more. So when my father's mind wandered, I slipped away from the orchard, free from the bonds of parenthood. I walked for a long time under Helios’ and Apollo’s chariot, praying they would not see me, until I saw a strange dark passageway, broken in the center of a meadow. I knew that all lost souls find their way to the underworld, and for them passages appear when they need it-- lost paths, lost souls. So I took my chance and went down the path to see if I couldn't find myself among the lost.”

  
Hades sat up then, for this, he knew, or at least some of it. It was a strange thing, to watch as the story unfolded their eyes. His thumb smoothed over Persephone’s knuckles and his lover took a deep breath, gracing him with a faint smile.

  
“After I wandered around his realm for what felt a few days, Lord Hades met my acquaintance at the edge of Tartarus.”

  
“What?” Hephaestus asked sharply. “Persephone, you could have--”

  
“Died, I know,” he said simply. “He saved me. I was dancing, being silly. Trying to make the grass grow, though not to much success. I tripped over my own foot and would have surely met my end, but thankfully, Hades knew of my arrival and had sought me out. He caught me by the waist, subdued the resident of the pit for my sake.”

  
“So this is some, some… convoluted form of hero worship, then!” Demeter proclaimed. “Persephone, we can snap you out of this. This is childish, you surely don't wish to stay here.”

  
“Be silent,” Persephone said coldly, and nearly all present flinched from the ice in his tone.

  
“He was an ass to me. There were no feelings save a base resentment and reluctant gratitude. And, uh.” Persephone swallowed, and though his face stayed the same his cheeks became tinged with pink. “Possibly desire.”

  
Hera chuckled softly and gave Persephone a sly smile. “Be not shy now, minx. You have the lord of the dead around your smallest finger.”

  
“Hera,” Hades warned, pink himself, at the same time that Demeter got an arm loose and swung it in a fist aggressively in his direction. “That is my son!”

  
Hera shrugged and caught his fist, twisting it into submission. “He is as grown a god as any of us, you heard him. As long as everyone agreed--”

  
Zeus put her hand over Hera’s mouth quickly, as did Apollo for Demeter. “Continue,” she said irritably. “Hurry up.”

  
Persephone cleared his throat. “Anyways. No, I saw no hero in Hades. But he did take care of me despite the fact that I was an invader in his land. Anything I needed, I could ask for, and he provided. Even his shades lent a kind eye to me. Slowly my heart warmed to his kindness and the desire went from a low heat to a forest fire on the day I saw him making repairs by hand to his realm. I had found his guard dog and played with her, treated her well, and he found me with her. We talked… something clicked. I saw gentleness in his heart. I think then, I… fell in love with him.”

  
Hades squeezed at his hand. He squeezed back through the tiny tremors of nerves.

  
“Not long after, I approached him for another request. As events happened, I… ended up in bed with him.”

  
“How exactly does one ‘end up’ in bed?” Apollo asked curiously. “Did you trip into that as well, or…?”

  
Persephone burst into laughter and bright yellow daffodils crested at his feet, and it was so infectious that Hermes and Hephaestus even cracked a little smile. “No! Fates, no, blessed be-- I asked him if I could bathe at his palace. The rivers aren't exactly fit for that here, so I had to: there was days worth of grime over my skin and I like to be clean, but the only bathing chamber, obviously, is in Lord Hades’ rooms. I couldn't find the towels, so I just, you know. Walked out like that.”

  
Zeus and Hera snorted as one. “You are insufferable, flower god,” Zeus said chidingly, but she didn't sound disappointed.

  
Persephone smiled cheekily. “My clothes have never had particularly long hemlines. I'd seen his gaze caught on my bared skin before, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I simply went out there. I've never known much about desire. I wasn't allowed to,” he said pointedly, glancing down at Demeter, who looked both disturbed and ashamed.

  
“Instinct wins out sometimes,” Hephaestus muttered, and Persephone gave his papa an amused look.

  
“We are not talking about this,” Demeter gritted out. “Keep going.”

  
Hades held in his laughter at Persephone very clearly holding in an eye roll. “Continuing on, we stayed in bed for a very, very long time, long enough that I needed to take a respite and I was offered food. I knew that the food was more than just the offer for nourishment, however. I may be absentminded at times, but I am not stupid. I knew if I ate, I would be staying.”

  
“You didn't.” Demeter looked horrified. Hermes looked very pointedly away from him, at a point just above Hades’ head, and he grinned, remembering his visit in the night.

  
“Hades ordered us a plate of fruit,” Persephone continued over the sound of his father chanting over and over "no, no, no," as he spoke. 6“And he hand fed me the seed of the underworld-- six seeds, to be exact, six pomegranate seeds and then I came into his embrace again.”

  
“No!”

  
“It's true,” Hermes interjected. “I saw his gut, and in it were the seeds. He belongs to this realm.”

  
“And as of this morning, I have promised to belong to him,” Persephone uttered softly. “He asked me for my hand and I saw no better answer than acceptance. My heart beats for my flora and all things new, but it beats in time with his.”

  
He stood, hand in hand with him, and settled once more on the arm of his throne with legs tucked onto his lap. Hades’ right hand settled on his calf, stroking softly, his left secured around his waist.

Together, proud and sharp and merciless, they made a picture of royalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Drama! Action! Good and bad! Really, really pissed off Demeter!
> 
> Things will be solved, there's gonna be a happy ending, blah, blah. We're almost at the end of our journey! This is pretty incredible, guys, and i'm glad to be a part of it.
> 
> As usual, follow me on tumblr @ hoenursey for more shenanigans and ficlets and generally me being the exact same person as nursey!


	9. Heliotropium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus tries to figure things out. (And so does everyone else.)

Zeus approached them then, scrutinizing, her dark eyes sharp.

 

“Your minds will not be changed,” she demanded. In unison, their heads shook. 

 

“You love one another, you say.”

 

“We know,” Hades corrected. “A fast courtship, certainly. But valid nonetheless.”

 

“I wouldn't exactly call it a courtship, but whatever keeps your string of fate long,” Zeus muttered. “Alas. It is a valid union, in whatever sense, to the underworld or to its master. You would be king consort, Persephone. That is your will?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Then I am not to question it. But your father both can and will destroy our joint mother Gaia’s soft skin if he does not see you. What say you then? Surely not to let her rot?”

 

Persephone looked shocked. “Of course not, I am a friend of humanity and the growth of our mother in rest like any other.”

 

“But what can he do but stay?” Hades asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “He has eaten. The laws of the fates bind him. And myself, for that matter.”

 

Zeus nodded, face pensive. “Yes, that remains true. Hermes, again, how many seeds were in his belly upon your visit?”

 

“Six, my lady sister.”

 

“And he appeared to have no more or less, or inclination towards either?”

 

Hermes spoke slowly, confusion creasing his fine brow. “He looked not sickly, if that's what you're asking, and as for more, he was asleep upon my sights-- Lord Hades handled him…” he glanced over at him and rolled his eyes a little, to which Hades smiled with all faux innocence. “He was exceedingly gentle with him, despite all other evidence.”

 

“And you maintain that you were not kidnapped, taken, or otherwise coerced?”

 

Persephone looked mildly offended, which Hades took to mean he was actually quite upset. He curled in closer to him. “I want this, and what I have here, in every sense.”

 

Demeter seemed unable to remain quiet any longer. “What is the meaning of all these questions? He is  _ my son _ , and thus belongs to me and under the sun, where he can grow as flowers do, since he remains so fond of them!”

 

“He isn't an object!” Hades and Hera snapped in unison, then looked at each other in surprise. Zeus put a hand on Hera’s shoulder and murmured, “Settle, husband,” with a quiet smile.

 

“What of the cycles of the moon and sun?” she asked thoughtfully. Apollo frowned.

 

“What of them?”

 

“For a time you shine less upon the earth-- and I don't criticize, I know you have your duties-- but it grows shorter and shorter for near to six cycles, then begins to grow larger as you become less busy. Persephone, what if you came to the world above for six of these cycles?”

 

Persephone and Hades looked at each other, at Hades, and then to each other again.

 

“Would it be allowed?” he asked. “By the fates, I mean. We would have to ask them.”

 

“I could ask. But I know it is not in their plan for the earth to suffer so.”

 

“If… if it is the only way to sate the need of the earth, then yes.” He glanced to Hades with apprehension on his face, but he only took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to it.

 

“I am of the dead, but I do not wish it for any. It remains a need. If he must leave me, so be it.”

 

“Hold,” Hera said. He sounded irritated. “Not just yet: you will allow them time to marry, no?”

 

_ “They aren't marrying!”  _ Demeter snapped. “No one was  _ asked _ , there is no  _ evidence _ , no  _ witness _ \--”

 

“I was witness.”

 

All in congregation turned with wide eyes and surprise towards the soft voice which spoke.

 

Hades’ brow furrowed, but it was Hephaestus who spoke up, to everyone's surprise

 

“Come forth, girl, and speak,” he said, calm, authoritative. He sounded more in control than anyone had a right to in a situation like this.

 

She stepped forward into the light, twisting her clothing in her hands with obvious hesitation.

 

Hephaestus spoke up gently again, coaxing her forward.

 

“Tell us. You will not be hurt. My husband is…” He glanced down to Demeter, whose face was hard with an unhappy look plastered unto it. “Usually not so inclined to violence. Get this over with.”

 

She nodded jerkily. Still wringing the cloth, she began to speak, quiet, and then growing slowly stronger.

 

“My name is Mynescrea.”

 

“I serve the Lord Hades’ breakfast on the morn at the same time. Simple tea sweetened with nectar, fruits, bread. A touch of ambrosia for health and treat. My hearing is sometimes poor or too sharp and my mind wanders easily, so I did not notice. Ah. Beyond the door, and walked in.” 

 

The entire group of them had their eyes on her now. Hades glanced up at Persephone, just briefly, then noticed the tightness at the corners of his mouth and the mirth dancing in his eyes, and had to fight down his own smile into something more serious.

 

“They were, um, busy…!” She stammered, going red under the gaze of the pantheon and her Lord. “I did not mean to stare, my lord, I swear, but I was so shocked! I was frozen like stone. But I did hear you ask to marry him, for him to take you--” She went a brighter red. “N-not in that way! Or, in that way and also in marriage, I do not know, I am so sorry, the whole hall heard him accept enthusiastically  _ I am so very sorry my Lord--”  _

 

But Hades and Persephone burst into laughter, Persephone burying his face into his hair and Hades clutching at his sides. Chimes of “I heard!” and “We’re so sorry!” rang out among guards and servants who attended in his palace and court, and it became almost chaotic, for the realm of Hades, at least.

 

Hera’s lips tried to resist, but they curled up into a smile and he pulled Zeus close, gazing up at her from where he rested on his knees beside Demeter, who had fainted. Apollo looked fondly over at Hermes, who rolled his eyes and threw a little punch at his shoulder, though his fingers lingered gentle on his skin. Hephaestus even let a quiet smile break through as he gathered his husband into his arms.

 

“Dismissed, girl. I- Persephone, stop laughing, fuck- thank you,” Hades called, smacking him lightly. “Our whole court heard you in the heat of pleasure and you find it  _ funny _ .”

 

“Don't say it like that! Now I can't look a single person in the eyes, gods!”

 

“Son,” a voice called, and Persephone looked up, laughter dropping off his face in surprise.

Hephaestus gestured to Persephone.  _ Bring your husband,  _ he mouthed, beckoning, and Hades blushed a bit. When he looked up, his husband to be was a dusky, attractive pink, high in his cheeks, and he couldn't resist leaning up and running his lips over the soft coloration.

 

When he pulled back, Hephaestus had a brow arched at him, and he went scarlet again. Persephone looked a little abashed, but twined their fingers together.

  
“Come on. Papa does not ask idly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell is this! What is this entire fic!
> 
> We're inching towards the happy ending, but Hades is about to get... a shovel talk. Sort of. Do gods get shovel talks? Do gods GIVE shovel talks? These gods do!
> 
> Hope everyone who celebrates thanksgiving had a good one! I personally did not but I ate my feelings and that is close enough.
> 
> As per usual, follow me on tumblr @ hoenursey.tumblr.com to scream at me about these boys and the stupid things they do, like being in love and kissing and loving each other and also occasionally calling one another stupid.
> 
> Tchau for now!


	10. Gypsophila

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gypsophila chapter.
> 
> Get it? Gypsophila? As in baby's breath? The flower? That goes in boquets? As a filler flower? Eh?
> 
> ..........it's a filler chapter. Yes, I know, i'm not funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah this is a filler chapter, I felt guilty about not updating since literally fucking November and I kind of wanted to get back into the groove of writing these two in this verse (it didn't work, but whatever) so I popped this out maybe a few weeks ago? That's a lie it was probably several months but like hey whatever.
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this very short but very sappy ass set-in-the-future filler chapter where Hades and Persephone are happily married with their very stupid dog and other soft, gay nonsense.

“You're back,” Hades breathed against his lips, “You're back, you're back, you're back,” and all was right in Persephone’s soul once more. 

 

The telltale coolness in the air of Demeter’s less-than-happy feelings towards his union with his husband nipped at his heels, but Apollo’s wedding gift, a little magnetism to his own sunshine, kept his heart light.

 

“That I am, Husband,” he murmured. Their lips brushed as he spoke, not quite kissing; Hades grinned brightly at him, cradled his waist and swung him down, dipping him right in the middle of the passage between worlds. He kissed him, properly, lips melding against his own so fiercely that he couldn't tell the difference between his lover’s lips and his own-- the fingers of his right hand twisted into Hades’ fiery locks while his left arm draped over his shoulders to hold him close. He knew intrinsically that his husband would never, ever drop him, save in teasing or rare-made mistake, and that knowledge made him pliant as river reeds in the god’s arms.

 

“Gods, how i've missed you,” Hades whispered, barely pulling away to say it; Persephone's eyes fluttered open to reveal Hades’ golden eyes gazing upon him with such an intensity that it made him feel both delicately weak and strengthened with the power of ten thousand legions. His heart near stopped.

 

“Kiss me again,” he demanded. His husband, never one to deny him, pulled him in again. Persephone’s hands threaded through his hair, kept his mouth working in tandem against his own, bodies melded to one another's, until his husband's-- his husband, his  _ husband, gods, to be able to say that once again without shame--  _ clever fingers slid up his chiton sneakily, squeezing firmly at his thigh. Laughter bubbled up in his chest like a spring and spilled over their lips, pure and clear.

 

“Away with us, before you grow overeager too close to my father’s gaze,” Persephone said fondly. 

 

“Me? Overeager?” Hades said innocently, tugging him upright. “I merely noted how strong your legs have begun to look, and how they managed to stay tanned despite being beneath your garments.”

 

“With your eyes closed, you saw my tan? All the way beneath this pink fabric?” he teased. “Husband, what good eyes you have.”

 

“They wouldn't have to be good had I you lain out in our chambers,” Hades said not quite under his breath-- Persephone snorted indelicately and the sound brought a grin to his husband’s face. “Fine. Home.”

 

_ Home.  _ The word rang in his ears, sunk and settled into his bones, a comforting weight to it like a thickly stitched up blanket. He was going home. Home, to their ivy-covered palace, the windows adorned with gold. Home, to their twin thrones, black and white, crystallized belladonna and twisted broken bone. Home, to Cerberus, to the gardens, to their bed.

 

Home, to the Underworld.

 

“You have grown though,” Hades said, surprise in his tone. He squeezed gently at his hips, fingers pressing into the newfound meat there. “You've put on weight.”

 

“Maybe I was tired of you poking fun at my bony ass every time I sat on your lap,” Persephone said casually. Hades grinned a little sheepishly and pressed his forehead to his.

 

“Only jesting. Swear. But honest, i'm glad for the weight, you looked too slim last I saw you.” He ran his hands lightly along his sides and squeezed at his hips once more. The god seemed transfixed on it, gaze lingering, grasp alternating between gripping and caressing-- Persephone enjoyed it more than he cared to reveal to his husband.

 

“I don't have much a taste for the food my father cooks anymore,” he admitted. “I miss the fruits of this land when I'm above the surface, but I tried to eat some. I dislike being sick.”

 

Hades looked at him for a long moment, eyes caught on his face. He was quiet, and then said softly, “I’ll be sure to ask Hermes his aid next time you must return, send you something.”

 

His heart fluttered-- Hades took his hand and squeezed it, pulling him along to his chariot and helping him settle into the passenger’s side, then kissed each knuckle delicately before he released him from his grasp.

 

“My sunshine,” he murmured softly. “Here to warm my heart once more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie and say I, like, know when the next chapter is coming out because I really, really Do Not Know. I lost a lot of muse and motivation for this despite how much I love it but I really hope to get to it sometime soon. Send me good vibes!
> 
> Y'all know the drill. Follow me on tumblr @ hoenursey for more nonsense and me being gay!


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